Luyện nghe bài hát Ring The Alarm

Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye

Ring the alarm, I wanna stay calm cause
I'm about to rip this
When the mic is gripped my lyrics do up like
from Vietnam

'Cause I'm sweet, neat, I don't or skinteet
I lick with my tongue
And I nymn with my teeth
This prophet you can't stop this from the West Indies

You can tell I'm a lyrical prophet from the words spoken and up
In these and scrolls that I unfold
The knowledge I use does make me
The intelligence in my

Converts and becomes wisdom
Born in Trinidad, not Tobogo, land of pan and Calypso
is a buck and a buck is a cyop
That's the real true thing and a fact

This lyrical man you hold me back
From the red, the white, and the black
Island, which is my land, my of birth
You can tell by the tongue swung

And the lyrical structure in me
So all don't cross this border
by now you should know sort of
Lyrically but now I despise

All youth that's out of
Don't try to any of the Schnickens
'Cause I'm not done the lyrical boxin'
The and the lickin'

Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye

You two-facety, you can't me
And my you'll bite and learn
Soon you'll acknowledge my lyrical substance just like a
Chip FU, then you will and show all the youth them

That me big 'boutcha under and culture
And the bad in the pen
Because when I the mic
(Yes, man)
All MC's they do stop yes and

Any mic I touch, any mic I brush, any mic I
these lyrical styles of such
And if I do unleash a lyrical
Lyrics never cease, then a piece I'll unleash and make it

Please bite yes or thief
C H I P FU is my name, it will stay the same
Give me any mic on in a rage I'll engage
And drop rhymes the same

for quote, note for note, did you comprehend
So it up and pull it up operator
Wheel and again
'Cause MC's try these Rastafarianic and sound like wanna-be's

But a wanna-be's not I want to be
See the FU-Schnickens to be
The true prophets
Free to preach prophecies

We thee untouchable, matchable, stoppable MC's for
Me, a Rastafarian, no not me but I do
I'm not faking Jamaican, so all you better run
Because Mr. FU man a come

And me sitdong pon de sitdong pion de vibes
A de don
True me full up a style and me wicked and
With peer pattern how me chat it in a verb

And it in a noun
Uno better I and I respect
When this I come
out

Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye

Phenomenon one, phenomenon two, three
follow me
POC FU's the rough-neck chicken and I'm the Apache
See I'm the C the H the I the P

Down the P the O the C, the K the U the N the G
The M the O, yes and the C
And when the M the I the C is in my H the
I preach and teach and educate all ghetto youth about

But wait, let me get set not to
But to get straight
All MC's come out with good
And all of do sound great

But ring the and don't stay calm
Because I won't
These styles that I compile
To and teach and educate me, a new jack brother
(Who's that)

When you at the parties rapping and scratching I did a chat
On tape, on tape and cassette, you'll me live and direct
Yes and who never me yet when you hear my voice it's perfect
So just pack up your lyrics are weak when you speak

step so just back up, wake up, take off the make-up
The mic because I'll up
MC's limbs from limb, slim me
You see me, I don't follow no and I don't follow no pattern

So take head to this lesson I bring or the I brought
Which was taught to one and
All slack MC's better ring the
In words, run for cover